The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-06-11

NOOh1 SAiAN lNdt WOHlhh W tIO has been browbeating me in terrible manner. 1 won't stand it. Like all married men, Charles has some horrid ideas about his mothers cooking, so when we first began to housekeep he laughed at me unmercifully, and then went out and hired this woman to come in and impose on me. Now Pm going to give him genuine surprise. l attended a cooking class once, and I can cook dinner complete from the raw oysters to the ices"
 "I know the cooked ices would be delicious, dear," said Ada.
 "Well Charles would never know the difference. Men have many idio- syncrasies, and one has to learn how to manage them just rightly" said Mrs. Rose philosophically. Bring me a beautiful branch of thorn for the chandelier" she called after Ada, who had hastened away, eager for that mount to Thorn hollow.
 This mild day ill the month of March seemed like one that had been clipped from the calendar of May. Such frail flowers as are shaken open by the wind edged the ribbon like road, winding o'er the hollow and hill. The skies had grown soft and silvery as these two young people sped along the way, happy in the enjoyment of an ocean of pure air, fifty miles deep, which gathered and pillowed about them.
 "Ours is triumphal march," said Clinton, gayly, as he trod upon bed of pale pink wind flowers by the path, which was white with shower of the sweet-scented crab. '.Under such happy circumstances, may I not tell vou-"
 But Ada interrupted him, holding out her hands, filled with the flesh colored anemone. Are they not beautiful? These flowers are sup posed to open only when the wind is blowing"
 A merry party of young people from the village below came up with them, all armed with baskets in which to gather honey husks. With laugh ing words and mods they passed them and hastened on, floating over the hill like flock of swallows. "Lovers will loiter," whispered gay girl in a red toque to Ada as she passed.
 "All the world seems to think us lovers" thought Ada, as she stopped a moment to pick some pieces of shell from a sycamore. Over their heads, far above, clusters of yellow button balls were tossing in the sun and breeze, and some of them falling occa- sionally at their feet, forced off bv the new growth.
 Are they fruit, flowers or seed?" said Ada, picking up cluster of but ton-balls and hanging it across the buttons of her dress. "A combination of the three, probably. Fruit, cer- tainly, for that bright winged fellow sporting among them," said Clinton, glancing carelessly up at a bird which was consistently pecking at the yellow balls. But l must tell you, Ada"
 "Oh, Mir. Brown, will you not get me some of those beautiful punches from the tree. They would be so lovely for decorative purposes"
 impossible, Miss Ada" said Clin- ton, "I would do anything in my power to accommodate you, but as it is about twenty feet to the first limb, l could not attempt it."
 Not being one of those women who insist on men breaking their necks for them. or one who regards her word and will supreme power, Ada could not insist on procuring the balls. They loitered along, scarcely in sight 7 of that merry crew in front, interested in and examining this great book of nature, thrown open to-day at its most interesting page.
 The road wound over a steep de- clivity, looking down upon a small town below. Morning Glory, as this little village had been named by some poet who had been abroad at it's chris tening, throbbed on the breast of a grass-grown vale, which opened only towards the sunlight at dawn. There is nothing extremely picturesqusabout an Arkansaw town, and this one was but handful of white buildings scat tered about in that charming confu- sion for which most town builders are famous, but nothing could be more beautiful than the situation and sur roundings of Morning Glory.
 These two young people standing upon black blot where a building had been burned, upon the outskirts of the town, so beautifully fringed with pine, looked abroad over the charming landscape, from which the splendid panorama of clearing weather seemed to roll back like yelling from a great painting, where some invisible hand was still at work, building up a new world slowly, as each bud and blossom broke.
 "How beautiful, how wonderful !c cried Ada, gazing upon the transtor- nation scene.
 "Yes." said Clinton. .sat this dis